Beatrice sits on her throne, basking in the spoils of her riches. Every foe that she’s come up against has been vanquished and devoured without much effort. She has the highest bounty on her head. She’s easily the most powerful vampire the world has ever known. Her prestige is unmatched. She’s unstoppable. No one can compete with her. That is, until today.

Her relaxation is cut short as she hears someone kick her doors open. She places down her wine glass, staring daggers at the culprit. She then grins as she notices it to be the well known bounty hunter, Ulrich Fleece: slayer of all beasts, natural or unnatural. Conqueror of those tormenting the innocent. Obtainer of the last stand in every battle he has ever been a part of. Or in Beatrice’s eyes, all except one.

“You have a lot of nerve,” she starts with a light chuckle, “Only a fool would dare intrude so suddenly and so rudely.”

Ulrich doesn’t say anything. He just cracks his neck, staring down the ferocious vampire before him.

“Hmm, a man of few words. That’s understandable. I grow famished, anyhow. Have at you, knave!”

She stands up from her throne, taking off her robe, revealing her battle gear: blood red drawstring shorts with a black outline and a black bra with a red outline. But just as she manages her arms through her sleeves and gets in her battle stance, Ulrich just presents to her a piece of paper. This completely takes Beatrice off guard. Confused, she says,

“What’s that?”

“Come over here and read it,” Ulrich says, confidently.

Confused even more, Beatrice teleports over to him, looking at the paper more clearly. After just reading the first word, she immediately turns white as a ghost.

“N-no,” she says, petrified as she snatches the paper from his hands, “No, you can’t be serious. This has to be some kind of joke or prank! You have to be messing with me!”

“Nope,” Ulrich says, retaining his confidence, “It’s all legitimate. I’m now legally the proud owner of the deed to this mansion.”

“Wh-what kind of bounty hunter are you?! No self respecting warrior would choose this path over battle!”

“Yeah, and look where that got them. Plus, something tells me that you weren’t exactly hasty with their deaths. Now, since I’m kinda in a time crunch and don’t wanna die, I figured this way would be more effective.”

“Curse you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you, too. Now, look, I wanna get this over and done with as soon as possible. So if you wanna keep your mansion, you’re gonna do something for me.”

“And why in the Devil would I ever even entertain the idea of doing anything you say?”

“Because no house also means no treasures and lowered status. It’s all mine now. Meaning, it’ll only be a matter of time before you’re considered fodder. A joke. No more fear, no more power. Just a sad shallow shell of your former self as your relevancy fades and you wallow away in redundancy. Now, do you want that? I don’t think so.”

Beatrice snarls at his words. He’s right. Both the law and natural order are completely on his side. She has no other option than to do his bidding. The thought of falling victim to such a disgraceful method is infuriating. But the thought of losing everything she’s worked so hard to obtain is heart shattering.

“What do you want?” she concedes, folding her arms,

“Good girl,” Ulrich responds, basking in his victory as Beatrice glares at him, “Now, I’ve got a buddy of mine who’s not really feeling the best. Lady troubles, ya know?”

This catches Beatrice’s attention. The thought of getting involved in someone’s love life shakes her to her core. But as to not garner suspicion, she buries her disdain of the concept, saying,

“So you want me to be his little girlfriend?”

“Oh, God no. I just want you to spend the day with him and cheer him up a bit. Don’t care how. Just do whatever you feel is best.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“You’ve got a sheet of paper in your hands that says I am.”

Beatrice drops the deed, palming her face in agitation, saying,

“I don’t believe this.”

“Well, I do. So ... sucks to be you, I guess. Anyways, here’s his shirt so you can smell him.”

He presents her with his shirt, offering it to her. She grimaces at him with disgust and confusion, saying,

“What?”

“Don’t you track people by scent?” he questions,

“No, you racist! My kind just needs the name of the target to track them down.”

“Well, excuse me, princess. They don’t tell you everything about every type of vampire. His name’s Zeldrich Narris.”

Beatrice closes her eyes, getting down on her knees and placing her hands in her lap, concentrating on her target.

“Wow,” Ulrich taunts, “If that’s your method, he’s gonna feel better in no time.”

Beatrice flips him off as she tries even harder to focus. After moments of thinking about him, he vaguely appears in her mind, lying on his bed. Normally, she’d want to wait for the image to become more clear for precision, but since she wants to get this done as quickly as she possibly can, she couldn’t care less about that. With the image fresh in her mind, she stands back up, looking directly into Ulrich’s eyes, saying,

“Mark my words, you filthy worm, I will make you pay dearly for this.”

“Looking forward to it, honey.”

She snarls at him, wanting to kill him right here and now. But she decides against it as her need for her mansion and status far outweigh her want for him to be dead. So she returns her focus to Zeldrich, taking a breath before teleporting to him. She appears before him with her back turned, hearing him scream in terror and shock, just like she expected.

“Alright, alright, shut up,” she commands, turning around, “I’m not here to kill you. Yet. I just ne- OH MY G- ... WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!?!”

She averts her eyes after seeing him in his underwear. With confusion and fear completely cast aside by the question, Zeldrich says,

“Wait, what the hell kind of question is that? You’re the one who teleported in someone’s house. It’s your own fault if you see something undesirable.”

“Ugh! What is it with you humans and being so revolting? Just make yourself more presentable so we can get this over with.”

“Get what over with?”

“Your dumbass friend, Ulrich, is holding my belongings hostage because he wants me to help you because you’re acting like a pussy after being broken up with. So just feel better so I can get my stuff back or else.”

‘Ulrich?’ he thinks to himself, ‘What is he talking about? I haven’t been in a relationship in years. I think I’m over it by- ... ooooh. So this is what my gift is. I’m gonna have to buy him the entire damn pub for this.’

He turns his attention back to Beatrice, saying,

“Well, for starters, I can’t just feel better because you tell me to. You need to know why we broke up so you can come up with a suitable solution for my grieving.”

Beatrice sighs, seeing where this is going from a mile away. But her status is hanging in the balance.

“Why did you both split up?” she questions, feigning investment in his situation,

“Well ... because ... I’m terrible in bed.”

Beatrice is caught off guard. This is the complete opposite of what she was expecting.

“Oh,” she says with genuine sympathy in her tone, “I’m- ... I’m sorry.”

“I told you it was embarrassing,” he continues, “But that’s what happened. She just couldn’t accept that I’m a minute man. I’ve got up to two or three rounds in me in total and if I’m lucky, I’m done before the dust from teleportation completely disperses.”

Beatrice doesn’t say a word. Her mask is completely gone. Her want for preserving her image is cast aside. She can’t even bring herself to pretend to laugh at his misery to save face. This is hitting too close to home for her. She’s ... hurt. Picking up on her distress, Zeldrich decides to at least lighten the mood with a light comment.

“Wow. Never would’ve pegged you to be that knowledgeable on this subject. You’re clearly someone who couldn’t care less about sex.”

He lightly chuckles, hoping at the very least to get a smirk in return. Nothing. If anything, her reaction is considerably worse. Her face is flushed and she grabs her left arm, refusing to look in his direction. Zeldrich finally starts piecing it together.

“You’ve ... never had sex, have you?” he questions.

Beatrice remains quiet, too ashamed to answer the question.

“Oh, wow,” Zeldrich says, bewildered, “I- ... Wow. That’s just- ... Look, there’s no shame in it. I just thought that since you’re- ... you know- ... I mean, I’m not the only one who thinks so, bu-”

“It’s not by choice,” Beatrice interrupts, stopping him in his tracks, “At least, not fully.”

“What’s that su-”

“This is about fixing your sorrows. My business is my business.”

Now Zeldrich’s curiosity is piqued. He needs to hear this.

“Well,” he starts, “Another step in my healing is the helper letting the victim know that they know how they feel. So since you clearly have an idea of how I feel, I need to hear how.”

Beatrice groans in frustration from the stipulation. She thought she’d take this story to the grave along with the bastard who made her feel this way. But here she is. She folds her arms, saying,

“Fine. I’ll tell you. This kind of goes without saying, but if you laugh, you die. Am I clear?”

“Crystal,” Zeldrich replies,

“Alright. Some time ago, I was at the mercy of someone who put me in a lust spell to make it easier to vanquish me. Of course, he decided to have his way with me first before killing me. He wanted me to pleasure him, but because of my inexperience, he couldn’t exactly enjoy himself. So he changed his mind and thought pleasuring me first would suffice. But soon after stimulating me with his tongue, he ... he voiced his disapproval of the sounds of my moans. After being ridiculed for my... ‘annoying ass voice’, my rage overpowered the spell and that fucker was no more. So to spare myself further embarrassment, my sacred garden remains intact. So there. Now you know my story. Satisfied?”

Zeldrich can’t believe what he’s just heard. That’s so terrible. Before he can say anything, though, Beatrice stops him in his tracks.

“Save your breath. I’m not seeking pity from you. I just need you to repair your wounded heart already so I can go home. So what’s the next step with this process?”

As she says that, she makes an attempt to discreetly wipe a tear from her eye with her shoulder. Zeldrich, seeing her pain, feels terrible for her.

“Ok,” he starts, “I might have a method for you to help me.”

“What is it?” Beatrice questions,

“Before I say anything, I just need you to hear me out and trust me, ok?”

“That’s never a good sign.”

“No, no, just listen. I promise. This has a good chance of helping me, alright?”

Beatrice sighs in a foreboding manner, saying,

“Fine. Just tell me.”

“Ok, just take a seat on this bed.”

Beatrice raises an eyebrow in suspicion as Zeldrich pats a spot on his bed. She reluctantly obeys him, sitting down on his bed.

“Ok, now what?” she questions impatiently,

“Alright,” Zeldrich says with hesitation, “Now, close your eyes.”

Beatrice immediately raises her hand in pursuit of Zeldrich’s neck, but as a surprise to them both, he intercepts it, holding it in place.

“Listen, listen,” he continues, “Just do what I say and you can have your stuff back. Trust me.”

She snarls before snatching her hand away and closing her eyes.

“One wrong move and I will slash every corner of your body,” she warns,

“Duly noted,” Zeldrich responds.

She does as instructed, shutting her eyes as he positions himself behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and gently rubbing them. Though her guard is still at an all time high, Beatrice decides to relax her shoulders for less uncomfortable friction from his touch. Taking notice of Beatrice relaxing herself, Zeldrich brings his thumbs to the back of her neck, lightly applying pressure to it as he continues massaging her shoulders.

Bit by bit, second by second, Beatrice’s guard is being chipped away as Zeldrich puts his educated hands to work, stimulating her shoulders and neck. Admittedly, she’s starting to enjoy herself a little. She’ll be damned if she expresses it out loud, but internally, she likes his touch.

Zeldrich then decides to be slightly more ambitious. Continuing his massage, he gathers up the courage to lean into Beatrice’s right ear and gently blow on it. The sudden unexpected sensation of his cool breath entering her ear along with the fabulous massage she’s receiving proves to be too much for Beatrice as she lightly gasps in response to Zeldrich’s actions. She immediately catches herself, going back to that heart shattering moment as those cruel words ring in her head again.

“That was the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard,” she hears Zeldrich whisper in her ear.

Beatrice is astounded. Her voice was actually ... complimented. But she can’t just let him think that he’s won her over. She still has an image to maintain.

“What, am I supposed to melt in your hands for whispering bold faced lies in my ear, you cretin?” she says in a cold tone,

“Fine. Don’t believe me. I always thought it was better to show instead of tell, anyways.”

He then makes another bold move by taking Beatrice’s ear lobe in his mouth and gently sucking on it as he continues massaging her shoulders and neck. This time, though, Beatrice is more aware and alert of herself. She refuses to allow Zeldrich to garner another sound out of her. No matter how good his hands and mouth make her feel.

But her declaration begins to tarnish as Zeldrich moves from her ear lobe down to the side of her neck, kissing and sucking on it as he maneuvers his hands from her shoulders to her hips. She sighs in pleasure, trying to keep herself from giving in so easily. But then Zeldrich starts sucking a little harder on her neck and her attempt to resist his advances instantly start to crumble. She brings her hands to the mattress, gripping onto the sheets as she tries her damnedest to not give any reaction whatsoever.

Zeldrich is absolutely loving this. Her trying her best to hide her enjoyment is so cute to him. He just wishes he could break her barrier to tie it all together. And after a moment of plotting, he might have thought of just the way to do it.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” he whispers,

“N-no I’m not. Shut up,” Beatrice lies,

“You sure? Cause if I remember correctly, the deal was that if I made one wrong move, you’d shred every part of my body. Well, here I am, unshredded. So by that logic, it’s pretty safe to assume you like it when I talk to you like this.”

He kisses her neck, causing her to tighten her grip on his sheets.

“You like when I kiss you like this.”

He guides his hands all over her flat stomach, earning more sounds of enjoyment from her.

“And you like when I touch you like this.”

Beatrice doesn’t say anything. Both from not having a retort to his claims, which are one hundred percent correct, and not wanting to risk another sound escaping her mouth. But he’s so tender with her that she can’t help but to love his advances. Her self restraint is only getting her so far. It’s only a matter of time before she completely cracks.

Zeldrich’s motivation to keep going is only growing. Right now, the most powerful being to set foot on land is melting by just his touch. And her hymn-like noises of approval are just heaven to the ears. How anyone could be so dumb as to insult her for it is baffling to him. But at the same time, he can’t help but to be grateful for it. He gets to be the first to please her and show her the sweet savory feelings of lust.

By this point, all caution is tossed into the wind for Zeldrich. The regard for his own safety is barely given any thought anymore. All he wants right now is for Beatrice to feel good. So if it comes at the cost of his life, then so be it. He couldn’t care less.

He plants a light kiss on her cheek, trailing his way forward before finally making contact with her lips. Beatrice is taken aback by his bold move. Under any other circumstance, she would’ve reduced him to dust. But by this point, his touches, his words, and most of all, his comforting aura has completely set her at ease. This kiss just serves as concrete evidence that she needs for his genuinity. And it’s quite welcome evidence.